The Scent of Leather
by whitwit
Summary: Why is the scent of leather so intoxicating to Tim? A drabble. Warning: Slash.  Based on the movie 'No Night Is Too Long'.


**The Scent of Leather**

"I love you, Tim," he whispered as he pressed into me. I squeezed my eyes shut and winced more from the words than the exquisite and familiar burn. "Christ, I love you so fucking much."

I suppose I should have said it back, but I couldn't talk. The fullness I experienced having him inside of me again left me gasping for breath. Physically, I needed him more than I needed food or water. Emotionally, I was confused. Those words never meant anything to me before Ivo.

For several moments he laid atop me. Keeping his hips still, he stroked my shoulders soothingly as he waited for my signal to begin moving. In his usual impatient manner, he didn't wait to take me to his bed. He had bent me over the back of the chaise in the sitting room, my legs spread wide and my face buried in its smooth, cool leather.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Ivo, I need you. Please," I begged, tears forming at the corners of my eyes.

He wasted no time. After a light kiss on the nape of my neck, I felt the coolness of the air hit my back as he stood up straight. He placed one hand on my hip for leverage and wrapped the other around my semi-hard length. Pulling out slowly and smoothly, he surprised me by slamming back in. The sound of our skin slapping erratically and our mutual moans and curses resounded in the small sitting room.

No one ever made love to me the way Ivo did. With each thrust, he brushed my prostate sending sparks of electricity down my legs and making my toes curl. He was so feral, I almost expected him to growl. He pumped me using the same rhythm as his thrusts. My hands reached out trying to find purchase on anything, but the chaise was too smooth. I finally grasped the sides of the cushion and squeezed so tightly my knuckles turned white.

I could feel the muscles in my lower abdomen begin to quiver. It wouldn't be long now. "Ivo… Ivo I'm going to come."

"No," he said and pulled out of me leaving me shivering and wobbly. I nearly cried out from the loss. He pushed me around the chaise and sat down, motioning for me to straddle him. "I want to see you come."

Lowering myself onto his length, I once again felt complete. I began bouncing slowly up and down. The new position left me in control, something that never happened. I began to worry that I would prove to be inadequate, unable to satisfy him. However, if the look on his face was any indication, he seemed quite satisfied. He stared into my eyes with an intensity I rarely saw.

Thrusting his hips upward, he began meeting my downward movements. "Oh… oh, god!" I cried out.

"Tell me that you love me!" he demanded, thrusting harder and squeezing my waist with a powerful grip. "Tell me!"

"Yes! Yes! I love you!" I shouted as my orgasm hit me. Streams of milky cum sprayed up and hit his chest as the words left my lips. I threw my head back and opened my mouth crying out.

He lifted me up and began slamming into me. One, two, three times and then he collapsed against the back of the chaise. His eyes were clenched tightly and I could feel him pulsing inside of me.

Feeling a sudden tenderness toward him, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and buried my face into the crook of his neck. Closing my eyes, I could feel myself drifting off. I wanted to be here forever, with Ivo buried deep inside me.

**oOoOoOo**

When I opened my eyes, I was lying on the chaise alone staring up at the ceiling. I looked around and spotted Ivo standing across the room pulling up a pair of black slacks over his pale and beautiful ass. Noticing that I was awake, he turned and gave me that inscrutable look that he always seemed to have after we fucked.

"I want you to clean off the chaise while I'm gone." I watched as he pulled on a silky grey jumper. "You'll find the cleaning supplies under the sink in the kitchen. And open a window. It smells like sex in here."

I laughed. "And that's a problem because…?"

He didn't answer.

"Where are you off to then?"

"I have to give a lecture on Molecular Phylogenetics." He seemed irritated and I couldn't blame him. That sounded horribly boring. Picking up his black leather jacket, he walked over to the mirror and slipped his arms into the sleeves. He ran his fingers through his hair and I caught him looking at me in the mirror's reflection.

"In a leather jacket?" I questioned, smirking.

"Perhaps you're right." He said, tilting his head and appraising his reflection. He pulled off the jacket and walked over to where I lay, still basking in my post-orgasmic high. He smiled mischievously and draped the jacket over my torso.

"Keep it warm for me," he chuckled, bending down to press a quick kiss on my lips.

After I heard the door click shut, I buried my nose into the soft leather. I don't think I'll ever be able to smell leather again without feeling aroused.


End file.
